


Silent Prayer

by herohelio



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Gen, Pre-Calamity Ganon, Self-Doubt, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 08:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21455152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herohelio/pseuds/herohelio
Summary: Being a princess without divine powers is hard.
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	Silent Prayer

It was cold.

That was the thing about praying in the springs. No matter what she did, Zelda always felt cold. Her feet had been standing in the water for so long she could no longer feel them. Her arms and legs ached from the position they held since she entered the spring in the morning. The dress she wore did little to protect her from the icy wind, and her entire body was numb with the freezing climate.

It was cold.

Lonely.

Empty.

The longer she prayed, the deeper the pit in her stomach grew. How many hours, how many days, how many years had she devoted her life to praying? Zelda knew the answer--too much. How much longer until her divine power finally awakened?

Zelda wished she knew the answer to that one.

All of her ancestors had easily gotten their divine powers.

Why hadn’t she?

None of them had to spend their entire lives, praying to decaying statues.

Why did she?

The champions--Daruk, Revali, Mipha, and Urbosa--they all were familiar with their powers and could use them brilliantly. Daruk used his protective barrier for long periods, even rolling around with it activated. Revali could use gales of wind to soar to new heights (quite literally). Mipha healed hundreds, not only of her kind but anybody who came to her seeking help. With a single snap, Urbosa could eliminate all her opponents at once.

Even Link, although stoic and silent, excelled in his swordsmanship, the chosen hero of the Master Sword. Her father ruled and kept Hyrule at peace. And her mother...

A splash of water jolted her out of her thoughts. Right, focus. Zelda silently reprimanded herself for getting so distracted and resumed her prayer.

_ O, goddess Hylia, _

_ I come seeking help, _

_ Lend me your strength, _

_ Help protect Hyrule, _

_ O, goddess Hylia… _

Stone cold eyes looked down at her. Zelda hated that about Hylia’s statues in the springs. The statues in villages were smaller, and they looked at you directly in the eye when you knelt as though you were equals. The spring ones seemed to view you from above, looking down, pitying you.

Zelda was getting really tired of being pitied.

Being powerless.

“Hey,” she said aloud, her voice drowning out in the wind. She told Link not to enter the shrine with her, issuing it as an order when he protested about her safety, so the sound of his heavy breathing was gone. “I have been here for hours.” That was an understatement. “Days, months, years, praying--pleading to you and every god.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’ve done everything I’ve ever been asked.” Her dress was sleeveless, she wouldn’t be able to wipe them away if she cried. “Please, just tell me…

“What’s wrong with me?”

Everyone at the castle was counting on her.

She bit her lip, trying to keep the tears at bay.

The champions were counting on her.

Zelda kept her head high and gaze steady on the statue.

Her father was counting on her.

The statue grew blurry as if it were underwater. She struggled to retain her position.

Hyrule.

All of Hyrule was counting on her.

...That was it.

The tears fell, one after the other in rapid succession, as Zelda’s entire body shook, either from the cold, her crying, or both. She gave up on keeping her praying stance and collapsed in the water, ignoring her body temperature’s cries of protest. Tears splashed and mixed with the water, soaking her dress. Each sob wracked her body violently, leaving her gasping for lungfuls of air.

_ O hail, the princess of Hyrule, _

She was disappointing.

_ The great princess of Hyrule, _

Disgraceful.

_ Who leads us wonderfully, _

Unfit to rule.

_ And will save us from the calamity, _

Useless.

_ Princess Zelda! _

A failure.

As her tears ceased, it was the last thing that sat in her mind.

She was a failure.

A failure of a princess.

* * *

Link came for her hours later, long after her tears ceased, she had resumed her praying stance, and her face was only red and blotchy due to the cold. A grunt made Zelda turn from the statue and to him. He stood at the platform on the spring, right before one would enter the water. The Master Sword was sheathed, yet the blue light emanating from it was still visible. His hair whipped in the wind, wild and unruly, free of his hair tie. The putrid stench of monster remains hung in the air and Zelda assumed he trained against a Bokoblin or two.

Or maybe to give her space.

Whatever the case, she waded out of the water, and smiled weakly at him. Per usual, his stoic expression was all that greeted her.

He led her out of the spring and to the horses. Both were sound asleep on the grass. Zelda’s horse, Alessa, made little cooing sounds as she slept, her white body rising and falling slowly, glinting in the moonlight. Epona stirred when Link grew near. He walked over and stroked her mane, allowing her to go back asleep.

“They’re sleeping?” Zelda asked him as he walked over to her. Link nodded. “How long till they wake up?”

Link paused and held up a finger. One hour it was.

The night air froze her feet and Zelda shuddered, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm up. Her body wasn’t taking the transition from the water into the freezing air well, and Zelda longed for the warmth and comfort of her room in the castle. If it were any other day, she would be sitting at her desk, poring over a book or blueprint, a glass of warm milk by her side...

“Hngh.”

Zelda snapped out of her thoughts only to see a warm meal being shoved in her face. Hylian rice, along with meat sat on the plate. What caught her eye, however, was the red curry that covered everything. It smelled heavenly, the spicy scent of the seasonings blending with the freshly cooked meat and rice. Goron spice, she noted, as the familiar smell of smoke wafted through her nose. Daruk often handed them some, boasting about how hardworking the Gorons were, to take time off mining to create spices for them to enjoy. Zelda had never eaten any food containing the spice, but by the looks and smells of the meal in front of her, she regretted not trying it sooner.

Link nudged the plate at her face once more, and Zelda took it, devouring the contents. It tasted as good as she anticipated, even more so. The spoonful she took melted in her mouth, the crisp and juicy steak complementing the soft and sticky rice. People in the castle scolded her on her preferences, as proper meat was supposed to be tender and proper rice was supposed to firm. The meal was specifically tailored to her tastes, and Zelda gave a silent thank you to Hylia (for once).

The spice, was indeed, very spicy, but in the cold climate, Zelda was grateful for the heat. Curry dripped down her throat, sweet and savory, with hints of lemon and other herbs she couldn’t name. 

Link watched her with interest, before tapping a button on the Sheikah Slate. There was much to learn about the ancient yet advanced tech, and one of the things recently discovered was that one could store food, still hot or cold, inside the slate. To retrieve the food, one had to press a button and the food would materialize right in front of their eyes. Zelda assumed that was how Link gave her the food—otherwise, Link was a Wizzrobe who could summon food instead of storms.

When she finished, she handed Link the plate, who made it disappear into blue sparks. “Thanks,” she said. “It was really good.”

Link nodded and sat on the grass, leaning against Epona.

“It’s a shame you’re my knight.” Zelda sat on the grass against her horse. “You’d make an excellent cook.”

Link brightened at that, his lips curving into a smile and eyes shining, breaking the mold of his blank expression. It was at moments like these, Zelda could catch glimpses of his childhood innocence. To see the boy beyond the knight. Link, as a person, and not someone whose only purpose was to slay evil.

They sat there for the next hour, Zelda chattering and Link nodding. With every joke or compliment towards his cooking, his smile would grow wider.

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she initially hated Link, despised him with every fiber of her being. He was everything he was supposed to be; he mastered sword fighting, slew enemies without a sweat, and was more than ready to defeat Ganon.

Everything Zelda wasn’t.

She didn’t have her power, couldn’t fight, and was unprepared to face Ganon.

Her thoughts from the spring flooded her mind. They trekked long and hard to get to this spring, and it was all for naught. Nothing awakened, Zelda couldn’t do anything. Nothing changed. She was a failure. Still a failure. She would always be a—

Laughter. Raucous laughter.

To her astonishment, Link was laughing at a joke she must have told a second before spacing out. He threw his head back, hugging his sides as he teetered back and forth, howling with laughter. His eyes crinkled with tears, and he paused for a second to look at her before continuing to laugh.

Zelda sat, shocked. She could count on one hand the number of times Link laughed. None of them were instigated by her.

He laughed more, smiling at her. A million thoughts ran through Zelda’s mind. She was still shaken from her breakdown in the spring, and although the food and Link had decreased it, the thoughts lingered in her mind.

But at the moment, Link was happy, and Zelda laughed along as well.

Because while she may be a failure of a princess, she wouldn’t be a failure of a friend.


End file.
